The Good Book has been enshrined in its King James version so long that, for most of my life, every time I heard quotations from the Bible, the language sounded medieval--a bit stilted, though definitely poetic. The poetry of the King James edition, a preacher friend once told me, is what he associates with the Bible. But that same man went and bought me this edition, which has been translated into the idiom of our day, in order to show both of us something important about the Good Book: It's also a big, almost unwieldy collection of stories, letters, plainspoken poetry, and advice for how to live right. This edition performs a bit of a magic trick, bringing ancient scriptures closer to our contemporary context. In the transition, plenty is gained but a few things are lost, too.
Personally, I am less than devout--I pray as often as I need, go to church almost never, and hold to a more or less vague orthodoxy. The God of Peterson's translation of the New Testament, however, seems not to mind what set of beliefs I affirm as much as how I live in the world. The Psalms read like the street prayers of wise but uneducated citizens expressing devotion to God, or asking for mercy, or decrying injustice. Reading their words had the effect of putting their prayers into my own mind, so that eventually I felt their prayers were my own. What helped that sensation was the way these psalms, when rendered into the language of our day, lose nearly all traces of the exotic, feeling plainer and more direct, closer to my own language, therefore more honest. But along with that exoticism departs a certain aura, too--that sense of poetry which was so highly esteemed by the preacher who gave me this book. Of course, it is also true that such a translation shows how the plainspoken language of our time contains its own poetry. Part of the flavor of the King James Bible comes from its medieval language, for the language of another era can sound funny in the same way the carefully selected language of poetry can sound funny. There is value in looking past the poetry to the idea, in ordinary language. This value shone through most, I think, in the Proverbs, which finish this text and read like an instruction manual for living a virtuous, wise life. I read these a little each day, and they served well as daily reminders for how to live a peaceful, wise, right life. If I revisit anything in this Bible, it will most likely be the Psalms and Proverbs.
As for the testaments of Jesus, the change of language had a funny effect. The testaments read like magical realist fiction, set in a world very much like our own except for the man who possesses a direct connection with the divine. Since I am not devout, it's impossible for me to know fully the impact of seeing the story of sacred Jesus rendered in language that can look profane. I can only say that the story felt more familiar in this idiom, more like the literature I was trained to interpret. The characters therefore felt more human, more relatable to my context. Without being exactly edifying, the story of Jesus was touching in the way of good literature.
As for Paul's letters, they were a bit of a grind, feeling less like historical documents and more like a litany of corrective complaints. The delight in these letters came from seeing familiar passages rendered in unfamiliar phrases composed of contemporary language.